


Held Against My Will

by theangelofmusics_barricade



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Hostage Situations, Like, M/M, Major Character Injury, Shooting, Violence, warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 21:19:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/931203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theangelofmusics_barricade/pseuds/theangelofmusics_barricade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sirens wailed outside the apartment’s window, which made the group turn. If the cops were trying to get to the main part of town, they wouldn’t use their street. The only thing that would make them drive down here would be… Everyone in the group turned when they heard Jehan’s glass crash down to the ground in realization. And that was when they started running down to the deli where the cop cars had surrounded the place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Held Against My Will

**Author's Note:**

> Eeeek, okay, seriously, I don't want people to read this if it is going to be painful for them. It's pretty dark. Hostage situation and shooting, so please, don't read if you do not like that stuff, or if that makes you uncomfortable.
> 
> I don't know where this came from, but here. now I'll go hide in my corner.

Saturday October 6th, 7:28 p.m.

“Grantaire, you are going to be so late,” Eponine said over the phone. “That’s not going to leave a good impression on lover boy.”

“Shut up, Ponine,” he groaned, trying to put his pants on with one hand, and it wasn’t working well. “I’m almost ready, just, tell him I’ll be there soon.” He hung up on her, finally able to put his pants on correctly. He knew he was going to be in trouble when he got to the apartment late, but what else was new? It was just another way of bothering Enjolras.

He left his flat quickly and was able to walk the way, happy it wasn’t dark yet. He bit his lip as he knocked on the door, hoping that whoever answered wouldn’t be too angry that he was the reason that movie night had not started yet. Combeferre opened the door, expressing his annoyance in just a look, which Grantaire was thankful for. Everyone had taken up residence in their normal places on the couches: Marius and Courf in the loveseat, Joly, Bousset, and Musichetta taking up the couch, Enjolras in his arm chair, and Jehan, Combeferre and Eponine on the blanket on the floor. Grantaire took the spot next to Jehan, grateful his boyfriend wasn’t joining them to completely make Grantaire feel alone.

“So, what the hell are we watching?” Grantaire sighed, knowing that the movie would have started a half hour ago if he had not fallen asleep and forgotten. He could feel Enjolras’ glare on the back of his neck, who would probably rather be reading or studying instead of watching the movie, but he took the opportunity to hang out with his friends anyway.

“Well, we had gotten it down to the Dark Knight, and The Great Gatsby,” Courf announced. “And with Jehan abstaining his vote, we are split. So monsieur late-pants, it’s on you. Will you choose Mr. Nolan and his amazing Batman series, or the film of the year with non-Oscar winner, Leo DiCaprio? You choose,” Courf said, making it seem much more dramatic than it actually was. Grantaire just sighed and put the Dark Knight into the DVD player, hearing cheers from Courfeyrac mainly.

As the movie played, some of the couples, Joly, Chetta, and Bousset mainly, had ended up fading away from the movie, while Courf and Marius were completely engrossed. Ferre and Eponine were still trying not to show that they were a couple on the blanket next to Jehan and Grantaire. Jehan’s head ended up in Grantaire’s lap, which was not uncommon, and he ran his fingers through his long hair, as he heard him gasp when Rachel died.

Grantaire had seen the movie before, but it was still one of his favorites. He was grateful, though, for the beer that he had next to him, to help the time pass. When the movie was over, and the group had sufficiently stretched, Joly went into the kitchen to grab more drinks, and came out empty handed.

“Clearly, while we were all _waiting_ ,” Enjolras said, glancing at Grantaire, “Everyone had their fair share. I guess that means-“

“I guess that means someone will have to run to the deli,” Courfeyrac interrupted. Enjolras glared at him, wanting to get back to his work.  While most of them shied away from volunteering, Grantaire stood up.

“I’ll go,” he announced. “It’s only fair, since I’m the reason that we are out. Go ahead and start another without me though,” he said, returning Enjolras’ glance from before. He headed out as he heard the group talk about ordering a pizza.

The walk was only down the street, but it seemed to take longer, especially with Grantaire’s thoughts. He could feel Enjolras glaring at him when he walked in the door, clearly annoyed that he had caused this delay. Grantaire cringed, mainly at himself. He had made a fool of himself, once again. Although, what better could he do? He breathed in the fall air, enjoying the coolness flooding his body, trying to calm his thoughts.

He ripped open the deli door, hearing the bells jingle. He looked over and saw Cosette on register, smiling at him. He had known Cosette for a while, and she came over a few times to their group get-togethers, but not often. She got along with Marius and Eponine as well. They were the only two in the store, so Grantaire walked to the refrigerators to grab two cases of beer while talking.

“Are you alone tonight?” he asked.

“Yeah, we’re closing soon, so that’s the lucky schedule I got,” she sighed, pointing to the clock. “Saturday nights are hopping,” she said sarcastically. Grantaire laughed though. A teenage couple came in, giggling to themselves as they grabbed some snacks for their own date night. Grantaire and Cosette made faces to each other as Grantaire grabbed a snack for himself. That was when another man entered.

He went straight up to Cosette’s register and Grantaire assumed he was just getting cigarettes. Then he heard Cosette stuttering, and her voice shaking. Grantaire turned his head quickly, seeing the gun in the man’s hand. He dove down, hiding under the cabinet in the back. He heard the teenage girl scream, which made the man turn the gun on her. “You’re gonna be quiet, and then I won’t have to use this,” he growled.

Pointing to the boy, he motioned towards the door. “Close it, lock it, and sit down in the corner over there,” he demanded. The boy did as he was told and took his girlfriend over with him. The robber must not have seen Grantaire. He took his chance to slide behind the counter so he could get over to Cosette. The deli counter wrapped to the cashier’s station, so he crawled slowly while the man addressed Cosette again.

“Did you push that little button you have to contact the police already, darling?” he asked; his words a bit slurred. Of course, Grantaire thought, no normal person would do this. Cosette nodded, unsure how he would react. “Good,” he smiled, turning to the couple. Grantaire crawled the rest of the way and tugged at Cosette’s pants to let her know he was there. She looked at him, her eyes conveying her fear before snapping back up to the gunman again.

All of them looked up when they heard the sirens come into the parking lot. The man only continued to smile, while he held up his gun, and shot into the air.

 

 Saturday October 6th, 11:43 p.m.

 

The younger girl shrieked and the boy tried to comfort her, but it was clearly not working. The man went over to them, and squatted to be eyelevel with them. “Now, did I not say, to be quiet?” he asked. The girl nodded frantically, hoping to be forgiven for her cry. “Now, what’s your name, darling?”

“A-Annie,” she stuttered. Cosette turned to Grantaire, and reached for his hand, needing some sort of assurance. He took it firmly.

“And you?” he asked the boy.

“Henry,” he said, a bit stronger. The man turned back to Cosette.

“And your little name tag says Cosette, so we all know each other here,” he remarked. The smile on his face was just creeping everyone out.

“What the hell do you want?” the boy cried out suddenly. He held his girlfriend tight, while the gunman turned on him.

“I, want some fun,” he smiled, before shooting the gun again, into the boy’s leg.

 

The rest of the group had lined up against the police barricade, needing to know if Grantaire was okay. Courfeyrac was holding Jehan with Marius, because he was the one crying, while Eponine and Combeferre held each other close, and Ferre also had one arm slung around Enjolras, who was still as a statue. The police were creating a perimeter, trying to determine how many people were inside. They could see the gunman, and the couple, but that was all. Combeferre told the officer that they knew Grantaire was inside as well. They watched the action, and just prayed everything would turn out okay.

When the shot rang out, they all jumped. Jehan turned into Courfeyrac’s shoulder, crying, and Enjolras dropped down to his knees, still silent. Combeferre knelt beside him, but earned know response, so he stood back up to keep his hold on Eponine.

“This is Officer McClaude,” the cop yelled into a megaphone. “We would like to speak to you, find out if everyone is okay, and if we can help you in anyway.” They saw the gunman turn towards them, still with a sickening smile on his face. He went out of the line of sight, before returning quickly and writing on the window three large dashes before writing a big NO in some sort of red liquid. The group gasped as they realized it was blood.

 

Sunday October 7th, 1:16 a.m. 

 

“Stop!” Cosette cried out when he went over to the injured boy, touching his wound. When he wrote on the door, she almost started crying, but took a deep breath to stay strong. Grantaire wanted to jump up, or at least pull her down with him, so he could keep her safe. But he risked scaring the shooter, and he didn’t want to get shot. Cosette looked down at him, and he just nodded to try and reassure her that they would get through this.

The man went over to the counter, smacking his blood covered hand onto it, leaving a mark. “Sweetheart, if you haven’t noticed already, I’m not stopping,” he whispered. Cosette’s eyes brimmed with tears, and one came out, but she quickly wiped it away with her free hand. The man cocked his head. “Come out, from behind the counter,” he demanded. She gasped, but dropped Grantaire’s hand. Grantaire felt empty without it, and nearly jumped to keep her with him, protected.

She was walking over to where the couple was sitting, but the man grabbed her first, wrapping his bloody hand around her arm and pulling her away from the windows. He pushed her up against the counter, taking the gun and pressing it to her chest. “I don’t think you need that shirt,” he growled in her ear. That was too much for Grantaire. He jumped up and across the counter, tackling the man. He was not going to just sit and listen to this. As Grantaire had him preoccupied, Cosette, taking a moment to register what was happening, ran over to the door and unlocked it. She helped Henry up and carried him with Annie outside to the cops.

Grantaire was still wrestling the shooter when he got his handle on his gun again, firing a shot. Grantaire took a sharp intake of breath, before feeling everything fade. He saw the cops coming in and taking the man away, when he closed his eyes.

 

Outside, the group cringed, and heard Enjolras cry out, “Grantaire!” He bolted from the ground, under the barricade and into the arms of police officers, who were trying to push him back. He saw the paramedics trying to press cloths against Grantaire’s wound, but there was so much blood. He continued fighting them, and Ferre, Courf, Jehan, and Marius had to come and help pull him back. He thrashed about as they held him. Cosette, who had been cleared by the paramedics, ran over to the group, hugging Eponine tightly as Grantaire was carried out on the stretcher.

Musichetta had volunteered earlier to go and grab her car, in case anything had happened. When she had pulled up to the deli, Enjolras, Eponine, and Combeferre had jumped inside, while the others agreed they would meet them at the hospital when everything was sorted out. Enjolras held onto the seatbelt, unsure of where else to put his hands, and was holding it so hard that his knuckles were white. Combeferre reached forward and rubbed his back, trying to get him to calm down.

When they arrived at the hospital, they were unable to see Grantaire, because he was in surgery. They were informed that he had been shot in the side, but the bullet did miss his major organs, which was a good thing. Enjolras, however, showed no signs of calming down. He paced in the lobby, waiting for any news. Musichetta left, and eventually Eponine and Combeferre fell asleep on the chairs. Enjolras still couldn’t stop moving around.

His mind had been a mess since they saw the police cars racing down the street. Jehan had made the connection the fastest, but Enjolras was the first one at the deli. He ran as fast he could, unable to do anything else but find out if Grantaire was okay. He couldn’t understand how this could have happened, to Grantaire nonetheless, but still, he was here. And his heart was pounding. He cared, so deeply, for everyone that he was friends with, but this was different from caring about them. He ached to see Grantaire okay. He needed to hear his sarcastic voice, or that quick smile, taking a drink out of his constant beer bottle. He needed to see his brilliant blue eyes staring at him, like they always were. They were always staring, and while Grantaire would knock him down constantly, he would always be there, staring.  Enjolras needed to see that again, and he wanted it now.

He was hyperventilating suddenly, and he fell down to his knees again. The nurse came over to him, trying to get him to stand so they could get him over to a chair. She put an oxygen mask on him, trying to get him to calm down. But Enjolras couldn’t catch his breath. He could only see that image of Grantaire, with so much blood surrounding him. It was making things worse. His heart was beating out of his chest, and it was filling up his ears. Another nurse came around, trying to get his attention also. Combeferre stirred in his chair, immediately coming over, seeing the commotion. Still Enjolras just looked up at him, with pleading eyes. He felt like things were becoming cloudy, and the room was spinning. He dropped his head back, and closed his eyes, everything disappearing.

 

Sunday October 7th, 11:56 a.m. 

 

When Enjolras woke up, he saw the sunlight streaming through the window, while also noticing that he was in a hospital bed. Combeferre was sitting in the chair by a desk, reading. “W-what happened?” he asked, holding his head. “Don’t tell me I passed out from exhaustion or dehydration again,” he said sternly. “I need to get back to work, and I need to stop having these crazy-ass dreams.”

Combeferre crossed over to his bed, looking at the monitor for a moment before looking at Enjolras. “What kind of dream did you have?”

“Well, we were all at the deli,” he started. “It doesn’t matter. Can I get out of here yet?” he asked. He was already sitting up and was ready to stand and walk out on his own.

“You didn’t want to get out of here last night,” Ferre said. “You were actually hell-bent on getting even further into the hospital,” Combeferre motioned to the other side of the room, which was cut off by the curtain. Enjolras just looked at him, confused, before swinging out of the bed and walking over, where he saw Eponine sitting quietly.

“You’ve made a bunch of noise for someone who just had a panic attack,” she remarked. He looked at the bed, seeing Grantaire, unconscious. He immediately tensed up and went over to his sleeping form.

“I-It wasn’t a dream,” he whispered, looking at the seemingly peaceful man. He reached forward, pushing one of the curls out of his face, and letting his finger linger on his cheek for a moment. He was hooked up to oxygen and his entire right side was wrapped up, and his left arm was in a cast. Enjolras snapped his head back to Combeferre, demanding an explanation with his eyes.

“He got out of surgery early this morning. The doctor said the bullet was more superficial, which makes him hopeful. He doesn’t even know how he broke his arm, probably punching the guy or something. They gave him sleeping medication to make sure he got some rest before you woke up,” he said. Enjolras’ heart rate was climbing again, but he kept it down, not wanting to repeat what happened last night. “We’re gonna go get some food,” he said, leaving Enjolras alone.

Enjolras sat in the chair closest to Grantaire, and softly caressed his arm. He couldn’t believe this could have happened, to Grantaire of all people. Seeing him so vulnerable here made Enjolras’ heart hurt in yearning, to see him awake and happy again. He looked at the peaceful face that Grantaire held while he slept, realizing he rarely saw that side of Grantaire. He longed to see it again, under normal circumstances.  He zoned out in his thoughts while continuing to run his fingers along Grantaire’s arm, which made him oblivious to Grantaire waking up.

He groaned first, and then attempted to turn, which made him flinch. Enjolras jumped at the sudden movement. Grantaire opened his eyes, focusing on Enjolras. “W-what are you doing here?” he said, his voice dry.

Enjolras handed him a cup of water and responded, “I, um, you were shot,” he stated. Grantaire smiled lightly.

“Really? I had no idea,” he responded sarcastically. Enjolras let out a sigh of relief at hearing Grantaire’s voice, and hearing him speak normally. Enjolras hadn’t stopped running his fingers on Grantaire’s arm, so he settled his hand in Grantaire’s unbroken one. His eyes stayed there, unable to look at Grantaire.

“I, didn’t like seeing you hurt,” he said softly. “It made, me, worried, that I wouldn’t see you again.” Grantaire’s eyes widened.

“What are you talking about Apollo?” he asked in disbelief.  “You realize this is me, in this hospital bed, Erik Grantaire, not Combeferre, or Courfeyrac. Hell, not even Marius.”

“Why would you think I wouldn’t be here for you?” Enjolras questioned, gazing at him. Meeting his eyes for the first time made his chest go warm, and he felt the heat rise to his cheeks. Grantaire couldn’t even find the words to answer his question.

“Well, I’m awake, so you can go back to work now,” he said, trying to get him out of the room.

“Well, unless the doctors want to release me as well, I think I’m stuck here,” he complained. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be here with Grantaire, he just didn’t want to also have an IV in his arm.

“What the hell did you do?” Grantaire exclaimed.

“I, well, you were, there was so much wrong, so much blood. And I felt so alone,” he stuttered. “I-I couldn’t think about possibly losing you, and it just made me,” he was starting to breath fast again, and he could hear his heart monitor beeping in alert.

“Enjolras, stop,” Grantaire commanded out of fear. That was enough to have Enjolras calm down though.

“Thank you,” he said softly, turning away.

“So, you’re really here, for me,” Grantaire said, still surprised.

“Of course, Grantaire,” Enjolras replied, like it was obvious to him. He stood suddenly, getting closer to the injured man. “I, I want to always be here for you,” he whispered. Grantaire’s eyes widened and he could hear the beeping of his own heart monitor start to become erratic. “Are you okay?” Enjolras exclaimed, worried something had happened.

“I, I, I’m fine,” he stammered. His cheeks were red as Enjolras looked at him. He felt vulnerable and he was expecting judgment from his Apollo, and yet, he was here, being compassionate, to him.

“Nothing hurts?” Enjolras asked. “I, I can get a nurse, or maybe some pain meds, or,”

“Please, just, stay here,” he mumbled. Enjolras felt his heart flutter. He smiled softly, whilst leaning down to kiss him softly on his forehead.

“Of course,” he said.

“Oh God, I think it’s a good thing I’m in a freaking hospital, cause I’m going to have a heart attack if you do that again,” Grantaire laughed. Enjolras smiled, and held his hand tighter before sitting down in the chair once more.

 

Friday January 18th, 5:39 p.m.

 

“Are you sure about this?” Enjolras asked as they walked down the snow covered street. Grantaire turned to him, kissing his hand softly.

“I can’t be afraid of a deli,” he said, strongly. Enjolras smiled at him as they walked into the parking lot. Enjolras let Grantaire open the deli door, hearing the bells ring. A teenage boy was on the register, and he smiled at the pair. Grantaire walked slowly into the store, keeping a strong grip on Enjolras’ hand. He walked over to the area he was shot in and bent down to touch the floor. There was no mark, nothing but Grantaire’s memory there.  With his eyes closed, he found himself back there, watching the poor boy, and Cosette, god, Cosette. He started shaking out of anger, and stood up suddenly when he heard the echo of the gunshot in his head. Enjolras caught him before he could fall down to the floor again. He clung to him, starting to hyperventilate.

Enjolras slowly started to walk outside, letting Grantaire lean against him. They sat on the curb, far away from the actual building, but fairly close to where Enjolras was standing. Still Grantaire slowly backed off, still holding his hand tightly.

“Are you okay?” Enjolras asked softly, not wanting to push him. Grantaire put his head against his shoulder, and Enjolras felt his curls tickle his cheek. He leaned down and kissed his forehead softly.

“Yeah, I will be,” Grantaire sighed, calming a bit. He lifted up his head and kissed him. “It’s all going to be okay?” he asked, not really meaning for it to be a question. He needed the reassurance though.

“It always will be,” Enjolras replied, kissing him again. He could feel Grantaire’s tenseness, but he knew it would help. They stood up slowly, and began walking back to their apartment, leaving the past behind, and the future ahead.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblrrrr 
> 
> http://theangelofmusics-barricade.tumblr.com/


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